Moments of Awakening- Couples
by utdfan22
Summary: Fire Emblem Awakening's support system creates the opportunity for a plethora of possible couples/ siblings/ parents in-game. Here's a collection of very short one-shots on the various couples I wound up with in-game. Generally short glimpses into little moments in their lives. Constructive criticism welcomed and encouraged.
1. Amorous Children

**Author's Notes: Fire Emblem Awakening has so many combinations of possible Parents-Spouses-Siblings-Aunts (Aversa and Lissa)/ Uncle (Chrom) that no fanfiction written by anyone else has your exact combination. So, I'd challenge anyone interested to find a way to fit in any of the above selections into a fic exactly as it turned out in game, be it about couples or parents or whatever other multiple choice scenario the game offers you. **

**Let's start with the kid's Second Gen Romances as I wound up with them, in really short-story collection format.**

**P.S. If you don't like any of the pairings below to the point you can't read them, just skip that section. Each one is completely self-contained.**

* * *

_Laurent & Morgan_

Laurent's hand shifted to adjust his glasses with decided precision, his every tiniest movement seeming precise and pre-planned. The light creeping into the tent from its slightly parted flap reflected off his spectacles' lens and the resulting glare shielding his calculating eyes from his unnervingly perceptive opponent.

His fingers twitched as his hand extended over his black dragon rider, its position leaving it directly in line with a white cavalier. Seeing no change in Morgan's normally cheerful obliviousness, Laurent felt a sudden tightening in his stomach and a cold sweat built on his brow.

Nervously scanning the board and running through every possible move he could conceive, he faltered and his rook moved leftwards rather than straight towards the opposing equestrian statue.

Morgan giggled at that and moved her own piece, the one modelled after a pegasus knight, three spaces diagonally so that it was next to his Lord.

"Check and mate," she said airily as Laurent's head lowered a fraction of an inch in disappointment.

"Five games and four losses… your tactical acumen continues to amaze me," Laurent said with a friendly smile.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Morgan cooed while reaching across the table to take his Mage's hat and place it atop her head. "Most guys get annoyed after losing to me but you're really sticking it out. I bet in a couple of years you might actually be winning three out of five games every once in a while."

Laurent had his pride and probably would have been offended if the words had come from a stranger but he knew she meant it as a sincere compliment (it helped that her prediction was likely accurate). Still, Laurent didn't entirely trust the purity of his deduction.

He had a theory that the possessive feeling that overcame him every time his hat fell slightly askew atop the tactician-in-training's blond hair made him temporarily incapable of staying angry at her.

This was doubly true when she crawled atop his lap afterwards and snuggled against his chest.

* * *

_Yarne & Noire_

"You… you're joking… right?" asked a decidedly pale looking Noire, the anaemic girl's usual lack of colour fading even further as she sat with a bent posture against a tree.

Yarne's toes gently raked the grass, the beautiful green pastures of the past something many of the children had been completely mesmerised by, Yarne included. His ears twitched slightly and his lips curled upwards mischievously when he responded, "Nope, dead serious. Taguels usually give birth to litters just like normal rabbits. I was a strange exception."

"Oh, that's… worrying," Noire hands clenched one another tightly and she began subconsciously rocking back and forth.

Her eyes were narrowing slightly and she was biting her bottom lip in frustration, warning signs that Yarne was completely unaware of as he continued lying through his teeth about his biology.

"Hungry little guys too. If you try to feed them one at a time, they'll probably get real upset, so you might want to work on that," Yarne couldn't contain his mirth anymore and burst out laughing, the sound ringing clearly into the sky. "Woo, I really had you going there. That'll teach ya about guilt tripping me into combat!"

"Yarne…" the half-rabbit's neck hairs stood on end at the deeper tone her voice had taken on, his neck cautiously peering to the side to catch a bloodcurdlingly terrifying grin upon her features.

"Hehehe, come on Noire, I… I was just kidding around," Yarne chuckled insincerely while his eyes involuntarily widened in horror.

Noire's thin frame suddenly leapt forward with a surprising force that would have made Yarne's Mother tip her hat and crashed directly into her Taguel beau.

Pinning his arms down and eyeing his quivering form like a hungry predator, Noire made a point of licking her lips in anticipation.

"BLOOD AND THUNDER! NOW YOU'VE GOT ME EXCITED, SO AS PUNISHMENT… I'LL MAKE YOU PRODUCE A LITTER!" Noire's psychotic laughter resembled her white haired father's as she yelled, "EVEN IF I HAVE TO LEAVE YOU A DRIED HUSK TO DO IT!"

* * *

_Brady & Cynthia_

"Cut it out already! I told ya I was fine, ya crazy dame!" Brady objected despite the sharp pain stinging his ankle.

The frail healer was currently being carried bridal style by a pixie-like girl whose bright smile indicated she was enjoying the situation far more than he. Her white Pegasus trotted behind the two amicably, the unusually intelligent animal whinnying lowly in amusement at Brady's protests, her tone reminding Brady of his mother's teasing whenever she caught her son with Sumia's youngest daughter.

"Nope, I don't want you getting hurt anymore," Cynthia answered cheerfully before her incredibly expressive face fell dishearteningly. "Besides, you only got hurt because you were racing to heal that cut I got on my leg. Even though it totally wasn't a big deal…"

"I told ya that I didn't mind that already. And of course I'm nervous with you," Brady bit back while crossing his arms. "You're so clumsy that ya trip over your own feet about as often as I end up in the healer's tent."

"Can't deny that." Cynthia pondered her words for a minute before her eyes lit up and mouth made a little 'o' shape, "Hey, I just thought of something."

"And what's that?" Brady asked, his non-scarred eye locking onto the Mark of the Exalt behind Cynthia's right.

"Can you imagine if our kids had my attitude and your bones? How awful would that be?"

Cynthia laughed at her own silly thought but Brady went bright red at the hidden suggestion.

"What kids?! Ain't it way too early to be thinking about stuff like that?!"

* * *

_Owain & Nah_

Their stroll into the busy town had been uneventful and pleasant at first. Owain bought some food from a local merchant and they wandered into various shops with no real goal in mind. Owain even agreed to not speak in his usual manner and, despite the occasional slip (usually begging his sword hand to relent), his efforts were a sign of just how much he cared about her.

However, problems arose when the crowds became thicker due to a travelling band of merchants coincidentally passing through at the same time Chrom's army had been in the area. Nah's steadfast claims that she wasn't a child didn't change her physical limitations and it was obvious that she and Owain would be separated if they pushed through.

Nah wasn't sure she could even get inside the crowd if she was being honest.

So Owain, thoughtful and (reasonably) straightforward as he was, saw no issue in 'solving' the problem by placing her atop his shoulders and moving about like before to see the new arrivals. Nah had screamed with a mixture of embarrassment and rage for him to put her down but he'd pointed out that the only alternatives were to either sit in one spot for a few hours or to go back to camp.

She'd been pouting while leaning her crossed arms atop his head (making her look even more like a sulking child than her position required) when he eventually spoke up, apparently having been deep in thought about how to defuse the situation.

"You know I'd rather do this with you than hold any other girl's hand, right?" his face twisted uncomfortably while he waited for her response to his sincere declaration.

Thankful he couldn't see the deep blush creeping across her features or the goofy smile she couldn't supress, Nah sighed contentedly.

She'd been about to tell him that she did know that when two girls in their mid-teens (i.e. somewhere just between Owain and Nah's physical ages) nearby pushed through the crowd so that they were both walking on either side of the theatrical swordsman.

"Aw, that's the sweetest thing any older brother could say," one of the girls cooed while her friend piped in, "You don't have a girlfriend by any chance, do you?"

"I'M NOT HIS LITTLE SISTER, I'M HIS GIRLFRIEND!" Nah roared, startling the two other females and nearly bursting Owain's eardrum.

* * *

_Gerome & Severa_

The Outrealm Hot Springs were a blessing for the weary Ylissean forces after months of battle and, save for a Risen attack, the experience proved a great way to unwind. Some couples even took turns in the Mixed Baths to spice things up (a necessity when methods of physical intimacy were limited by fraternisation restrictions).

Severa and Gerome were one such couple.

The incredibly shy couple had been slowly moving closer to one another after their confession, one or the other always growing flustered and backing off before they could take their relationship a significant step forward.

In her desperation, Severa had read through a copy of 'Make Him Fall For You In A Fortnight' she'd found in her mother's tent. After wondering why her perfect mother's tent contained such drivel (it couldn't be her father's, she sincerely hoped it wasn't anyway), she'd come across an article on bathing together (after the relationship had started) to "stoke the fires of passion. Bleh… who writes this crap?"

The Hot Springs trip occurred a short month later and, despite many previous failures to find the guts to join Gerome in the stream, this time they'd made it to the steamy, romantic waters while each wearing little more than a towel.

The key flaw in Severa's plan was soon revealed when she immediately sunk into the water so that anything below her chin was completely submerged due to her embarrassment. Gerome fared little better, turning his head away to obscure his currently maskless face and the obvious red tinge he'd developed when he thought about looking at his semi-naked girlfriend.

They'd sat that way for what must have been a good twenty minutes when one of the Anna sisters popped her head in to say something… something that was quickly forgotten when both teens glared at her so intently that a lesser saleswoman would have burst into flames… according to her sales quote of the pictures she subtly took just before fleeing for her life.

Neither Severa or Gerome could work up the guts to do anything adventurous, leading Gerome to quip, "Father may be a fop but I now see that his flirting takes courage."

"Did you just call your Dad 'Father' instead of the usual 'idiot'?" Severa asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. You heard wrong."

"Liar," Severa teased, sticking her tongue out and rising higher in the water without thinking, exposing her upper body wrapped tightly in a yellow towel.

Gerome smirked at the accusation, having grown slightly used to Severa's more playful side. He turned to face her, revealing his muscular abs, much to her pleasure.

"You're hardly one to talk. I thought you planned to make this 'romantic'."

"Gawds, how impatient can you be? I'm just waiting for the right moment to strike," Severa drawled while rolling her eyes and moving closer.

Gerome had no objections to this as he too approached his fiancé with an uncharacteristically smouldering gaze. Their lips were growing nearer with each passing second, just one little push forward and they'd meet.

It was the man who made his living riding on the back of Wyverns and dive-bombing often heavily armed soldiers that felt it first, a frightened shiver running up his spine as it had the first time one of the Risen had pierced his flesh. Severa was shaking uncontrollably, the terrified voices in her mind readying their host to hurl abuse as it had when Severa developed a childhood crush on Owain.

In an impressive display of camaraderie and unity that most married couples could only dream of, both of them turned away in the same moment and sunk beneath the bath waters, their eyes staring dead ahead at the bathhouse's walls. They even had reasonably similar thoughts.

"_Gawds, how pathetic can a girl be, Severa?! How ashamed would Mother be if she knew you were shy around the guy you liked?!" "Father would be laughing so hard at how pathetic I'm being that he'd never hear Minervy-kins coming. If he finds out about this, I'll have to convince her to eat him alive; it's the only sensible option."_

* * *

_Kjelle & ?_

Kjelle raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow following an intense training session, her proud smirk obvious at over a hundred a paces.

A single man dressed in the standard Ylissean uniform rubbed his gloved hands together, chanting words of encouragement silently to himself before taking the first steps towards Kjelle.

The General turned at him and her eyes narrowed in displeasure. Despite the reaction, the Ylissean did not divert his path.

He steeled his nerves, held his head high… and walked right past Kjelle as if he'd always meant to.

Kjelle blew some stray hairs out of her eyes and quickly resumed her training after the annoying distraction.

* * *

_Lucina & Inigo_

Lucina had spent many a night under the stars in her early childhood and found it relaxed her like nothing else. Even now, she found it difficult to stay upset under the faint glow of the distant suns.

Although, she mused bitterly, Inigo could certainly test that patience when too many of his quirks piled together. Or when his most obvious quirk reared its head at the wrong time as was the current case, she supposed.

She had taken her lover out to enjoy the view and they'd lain in contented silence for quite a while, side by side with their hands crossed under their heads as makeshift pillows. It had been a perfect night right up until he started talking about a girl he'd met in a nearby village.

"She had very beautiful eyes, I'm certain. Only one prettier set comes to mind," Inigo had babbled, although his expression was less enthused than normal when it came to the fairer sex.

Lucina was barely resisting the urge to run him through with Falchion for ruining the moment (and reminding her why she had her reservations about entering a relationship with the man she liked in the first place) when his continued ramblings took on a different tone.

"I honestly don't understand why I had no urge to flirt with her. I could think of reasons for the other girls I've been able to hold my tongue for yet this one stumps me," Inigo tilted his head backwards, his eyes rolling upwards as if the answer was written just above his head. "The only thing I can think of is that it's your fault."

Lucina's anger, palpable though it was, couldn't quite survive the sheer oddity of the statement. Inigo hadn't even blamed a girl who broke his arm once (according to Cynthia), although he did cry about being rejected, so there was no way he was accusing her of anything.

"My… fault?" she questioned hesitantly, positively baffled by the choice of words.

"I mean nothing negative, my darling," Inigo assured with the boyish grin that made Lucina's heart temporarily forget its rhythm, the organ banging against her chest desperately like a flailing musician trying to force out the forgotten notes. "It's just that you don't really give the other ladies a chance. They're all special in their own ways, of course, but I can't really think of one better than you."

Lucina, unused to compliments she could actively compare against other people (as opposed to his usual sweet nothings), considered stuttering out a response but gave up the idea when she realised that her voice was failing her.

"I guess anyone would look plain next to your beauty, huh," Inigo winked flirtily as he finished his praise, having noticed the effect his words were having on the realm's princess.

"You've… you've been practising, haven't you?" Lucina said bashfully as buried her hand in her face to cover the heat flaring up on her face.

"Just for you," Inigo quipped as he turned over to drape an arm over Lucina's svelte form, pulling her into a tight hug.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Not sure how I feel about this or if it's worth continuing but I probably should meet my own challenge. All feedback is appreciated as always.**


	2. An Older Type of Love

**Author's Note: Now it's the parents' turn to be exposed in their own little private moments.**

* * *

_Robin & Lissa_

Robin awoke in a slight haze, the previous night's celebrations of the Sheperds' return to Ylisse having lasted well into the night. The comrades-in-arms had drank, sang and generally behaved in a manner that would normally have constituted a severe scolding from Frederick. He and his wife had even danced (badly) in the mess hall while Donnel clapped along and Maribelle seemed to threaten to castrate him with her eyes (a very singular talent of hers that both impressed and terrified him).

"Okay… definitely wasn't a heavy drinker," Robin muttered, rubbing his forehead before fumbling in an effort to lace up his boots.

The effect of the liquor did a number on his coordination, partially because it made the room spin rather rudely whenever he moved his head into the wrong place. The only comfort he could take about his clumsy efforts was that his wife was still fast asleep in their bed, missing his pathetic display.

Although, Robin estimated she wouldn't be in much better shape when she got up… likely sometime in the afternoon. Despite Maribelle's best efforts both she and Ricken had taken their fair shares of wine and would probably regret it once they awoke.

Pulling his long black coat on, Robin froze when a familiar sound he couldn't place emanated from within the room. Putting aside the splitting headache that the noise had given him, Robin quickly reached into one of the coats large pockets to remove an Elthunder tome that he always kept handy.

Rather than the comforting feel of paper brushing against his fingertips, Robin encountered a distinctly slimy substance that lubricated his digit enough for it to slip along the smooth surface.

Struggling against his clothing (thank Naga his wife was still out cold), the tactician eventually managed to fling his coat to the ground in a heap and stumbled backwards towards the bedding. Gripping the sword he'd left at its foot, he pointed it warily at the black object.

Apparently disturbed by his actions, something small began pushing about inside the pocket. Robin tightened his grip on his blade's handle just as a small green head popped out.

He let out a sigh of a relief, lowering his sword as the frog hopped peacefully about the room, aimlessly wandering in the enclosed space.

Weak laughter from behind him drew his attention, Lissa's eyes blearily meeting his as her usual energy seemed to have abandoned her.

"I'd laugh harder… but my head really hurts," Lissa half-whined before leaning lazily back into her pillow.

"Why am I not surprised?" Robin mused to himself before smiling at his wife's once again sleeping form. "I must be crazy to have married a woman who likes putting frogs in my robes when she's bored."

"Ribbit," the frog chimed, in what Robin thought sounded like agreement, as it hopped passed him.

"Definitely crazy."

* * *

_Virion & Cherche_

The stable for the mounts possessed the same… unique odour that most animal dwellings did if Virion was being honest with himself. Still, it was a comforting smell, many pleasant memories associating with a sweating Wyvern rider in his mind's eye.

He caught sight of Minerva; both of her munching down on the food Cherche and Gerome had left for them.

"Ah, just the lovely ladies I was looking for," Virion exclaimed as he approached them, the older of the two raising her head to screech out a greeting. "Yes, it's been a while since we were last alone. I must admit to finding your Mistress more alluring than yourself, shameful though it is to say."

The younger Minerva threw in her own higher-pitched growl response, Virion laughing at it.

"I take it that means that you feel the same way about me," he admitted, moving part of his hair out of his eyes foppishly. "I'm so jealous."

His expression sobered as he leaned against the wooden enclosure keeping the two Wyverns in, being certain not to get in between a half-Dragon and her meal.

"I know it is rude to make a request of a lady to do a husband's duty but," Virion sighed, "I want you to promise to keep my wife and son safe, no matter what happens during this war."

Virion's eyes were uncharacteristically obvious in their sadness as he finished his plea, "I've lost a kingdom and the love of all but one of my former subjects, and still, I couldn't bear to lose them. I would be lost completely."

The Wyverns' half-hearted responses made Virion avert his gaze in embarrassment.

"Yes, I shouldn't doubt you; you've never given me reason to before. I just felt I had to say it once."

"How sweet," a deep female voice drifted from the side of the stables, Virion's head snapping to the side to see his wife's usual calmly smiling face staring back at him. Still, he could just about spot a hint of her being touched by his words in her expression after all the years that they'd known one another.

"How long have you been standing there?" Virion grimacing like a small boy caught with his father's bow.

"Long enough. You are so much better with women when you aren't aware of their presence," Cherche said thoughtfully, her tone neither joking nor mocking.

"Such cruel words, my dear… I think," Virion commented awkwardly, embarrassed even further by what he was certain was the chuckling of both Minervas behind him.

* * *

_Vaike & Sully_

One of the first things Vaike and Sully agreed when they married was to split their duties fifty-fifty. So, she wasn't surprised to see him cooking. She was a little bit caught out by how much pride he seemed to take in the activity though.

"Here's one of The Vaike's specialties! Deer meat served hot with a swig of ale!" Vaike boasted as he placed a plate and mug in front of his credulous wife before sitting down across from her. "One of the many things that Ol' Teach can do that Chrom just can't."

"Yeah, but why would he want to?" Sully asked, poking at the meat with a fork the same way one might poke a person they weren't quite sure was dead yet. "I thought he was like your combat rival or something. Isn't this a bit of that range?"

Vaike wagged his finger in her face while smirking wildly, "Not so, Teach is a man of many talents. It ain't enough to be a better fighter than Chrom, The Vaike's gotta be the better man as well."

"Not many people call cooking manly," Sully pointed out, taking an experimental bite of the venison. To her surprise, it was actually quite tasty, the flavour washing pleasantly over her tongue.

"They don't know nothing!" the blond Warrior yelled, raising one arm into the air while tightly clenching a fist. "A true man is master of all around him! A lesser man can skim by on undercooked bear meat and hope for the best, the real man knows how to make the best of any situation!"

"Uh huh," Sully intoned while swigging back the bitter ale, the strength of the alcohol complimenting the meat's gamey taste.

"Yep, The Vaike's cooking hand's nearly as impressive as his axe arm," Vaike boasted while his wife shrugged her shoulders, more interested in her husband's food than his ramblings. "You doubt The Vaike! Then he'll have to cook the next time we do this as well!"

"I'm not objecting to that," Sully said with a slight smile.

"Alright then!" Vaike yelled before standing to his feet. "The Vaike's got something to take care of but you remember what you heard today."

"Alright," Sully chuckled, chewing away at the deer meat, well used to Vaike's eccentricities.

Vaike wandered through to the other side of camp, making sure he was well out of the red-haired Paladin's sight and earshot before throwing his arms into the air and screaming, "WOOHOO!"

Ignoring the few curious stares he received, Vaike began moving with a renewed vigour in his step.

"Splitting duties is fine, but The Vaike saw the face of Naga the last time he tried her cooking," Vaike grinned happily as he spoke to himself, most of the other Shepherds deciding to just file it away as a 'Vaike' thing. "Ol' Teach'd rather cook every day for the rest of his life than risk letting her near his food again."

* * *

_Ricken & Olivia_

Ricken sometimes wondered if he'd fallen in love with two completely different women. That same thought happened to be running through his head a few nights after the Plegian War had ended, his wife snoozing snuggly in his arms while sleep for himself proved elusive.

Olivia was a shy girl who blushed profusely at the slightest hint of anything embarrassing. Olivia was also a daring woman who dressed provocatively and twirled hypnotisingly like a nymph of legend through a bloody battlefield.

Olivia was a cute girl who apologised over the slightest hiccup and could never bear the thought of upsetting someone. Olivia was also a masterful narrator who got a twisted kick out of making him scream like a girl whenever she told a scary story.

It was almost paradoxical (he'd picked up the word from Miriel during their studies together) the way she shifted between the two sides. It had confused him at first, their early dates (not that they'd realised it at the time) consisting of her yawning at his attempts at horror before bending him around her little finger with her own.

The Dancer shifted in his arms, her bare skin rubbing pleasantly against his chest while she slept. Her cute eyes twitched in dreams, her lips curling upwards at the fantasy her unconsciousness weaved.

He'd been slightly enamoured by her, physically, when he first laid eyes on her, the same emotions rushing through his body as they did whenever his teenaged eyes spotted a pretty girl. He briefly acknowledged her looks and moved on, his family's honour being so much more important than his personal feelings.

When they first spoke, she'd blushed and shied away from him, his heart racing at the adorable sight. Once again, the feeling passed and could be brushed aside with only the tiniest bit of extra effort.

Then she'd caught him reading in the camp, the two chatting amicably about the book while her usual fear abated and she'd sat far too close for comfort. He took a quick shift to the left to avoid her noticing before offering to let her join him the next time he rummaged through their literary storage.

She'd scoffed at a tale that had him checking outside his tent with more scrutiny each night and swore she knew better ones. His pride wounded by the implications, he challenged her to prove it.

Throughout their exchanges, he found himself laughing the entire time, his joy mirroring her own at a successful performance each time. Somewhere between screeching like a banshee at her showmanship and laughing his ass off at the idea of a cow becoming a sheep, he'd fallen in love with her.

The way her face lit up like a cherry and the way the excitement gave her voice a higher pitch after he had proposed to her, it almost hurt his chest with the sudden excited pumping of blood to his own cheeks.

He could talk with her for hours over tales she'd heard during her travels or he could stare at her beautiful face endlessly when her nerves got the better of her to the point that words fell apart.

Planting a kiss to her forehead, he finally made up his mind on the issue.

He was completely in love with a complicated woman… and he'd have it no other way.

* * *

_Gregor, Libra & Donnel_

"Libra, Gregor have theory about how to solve your problem of looking like woman," the older mercenary announced out of the blue after finishing his tenth mug of ale.

"Is that so?" Libra asked curiously, his eyes indicating a kind interest in Gregor's idea.

"Really? I already reckon'd a sign woulda worked but Libra didn't want that," Donnel said while still nursing his first glass.

"I meant no offence but I felt silly," Libra gently admonished the young Villager.

"Hey, Gregor be sharing theory now, so listen carefully. Gregor intending to down many more of the ales during the night," he began, pointing to his ceramic mug conspiratorially.

Both men drinking with him shared a confused look before leaning in closer.

"If Gregor drinks enough… you'll become real woman and he can take you to bed without doubts!" Gregor yelled proudly, downing another gulp of alcohol before demanding an eleventh pint from the serving wench. "Is great idea, no?!"

The effeminate War Monk nodded his head once in appeasement before sighing and standing out of his chair the second Gregor's attention shifted back to the cup in his scarred hand.

He fixed Donnel with a serious look, "Make sure he makes it back to camp safe. I'd help but it seems that would be a bad idea in his current state."

"Probably for the best," Donnel muttered in response as Gregor gleefully downed another beer the same way a man in the desert might the water in an oasis.

* * *

_Stahl & Cordelia_

Stahl's fingers plucked at his harp's strings pleasantly, Cordelia hearing the sweet notes floating over her ears as she was gently roused from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open to catch sight of the soft crinkling of his handsome brown eyes while he sat cross-legged next to their bedroll.

Moving a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes, Cordelia sat up in her bedroll to hear her husband finish his beautiful performance. Her lips curled upwards as the two basked in the warm glow of the moment, the rest of the world vanishing for just the briefest of seconds.

All too soon, Stahl's fingers stalled and he gave a small mock bow from his position, Cordelia clapping politely at the performance. The moment ended and both lovers quickly set about gathering their clothing and armour for the coming day.

Cordelia clipped her breast plate into place just as Stahl laced up his boots, offering the extraordinarily average Shepard a wave before heading out into the dawning day. The two were usually amongst the army's earliest risers and she usually used the quiet time before the bulk of their forces rose from slumber to gather her thoughts.

At that moment, she was debating whether she could truly call the food obsessed Cavalier average.

She reflected on her husband's harp playing and the leaps and bounds he'd improved by since taking up the instrument. She was proud to have been able to him better himself, both as inspiration and a playing partner.

Despite being the middle of the Shepherds' road in an every activity seeming a less than stellar compliment… he was the median in _everything _that the Shepherds turned their attention to.

With a little bit of elbow grease he'd learned the harp, displayed a talent for medicine making, could prepare a meal that everyone at camp could keep down and could even repair his own clothing (albeit not as neatly as Cordelia, Cherche or Gaius).

Cordelia had always considered pointing out a person's flaws to be a kindness, sugar-coating only reinforced a person's shortcomings and could lead to tragedy on a battlefield.

However, aside from gluttony (which didn't really create a weight issue) and a mental block when it came to pursuing victory over others (sparing with Sully, aiming to measure up to her own harp skills rather than surpass them, etc.), Stahl probably had less overt flaws than just about anyone in the camp. He wasn't the best at much, or anything come to think of it, but there was nothing inherently wrong either. All the while his goals seemed to be to aid others rather than improve himself, learning what he needed to and then moving onto the next person who required aid.

"You alright, Cord?" Stahl asked, having apparently noticed her distraction and fallen into step beside her. "It's not often I can get this close to you without you noticing."

"Just wondering about some things," Cordelia answered amicably.

"Anything I'd be interested in?" Stahl queried playfully.

She thought about her husband's usual disposition towards himself and giggled before shaking her head.

"No, I doubt it very much." _"You're much too selfless."_

The rest of the morning passed without incident but one very strange thought stuck in the determined Pegasus Knight's head, _"I wonder if a lack of flaws and all-rounded competency could be considered a type of perfection. He has always called himself perfectly average."_

Cordelia could barely mutter her laughter at the thought, her Pegasus briefly wondering if her mistress had gone mad as they took to the air to scout out the surrounding area.

* * *

**Author's Notes: The Gregor, Libra & Donnel gathering was to make sure I'd have six stories in each half of the adults' turns. That is, provided I get around to finishing this anytime soon with college starting up and such.**


	3. And the Rest of the Happy Couples

**Author's Notes: This chapter was originally going to have another "Bachelor/ Bachelorette" short with the left over unmarried units but I couldn't think of a good enough joke or moment so I cut it.**

* * *

_Lon'Qu & Nowi_

Lon'Qu lowered his head, ensuring that his black hair was not noticeable amongst the green leaves he'd taken shelter beneath. His body was laid out flat and remained totally immobile; a casual observer may have taken him for dead due to the determined stillness.

His normally calm veneer began to crack at the distant sound of pattering feet beating against the Earthen floor, an uneasy frown crossing his features as his confidence in his hiding spot became shakier with each passing moment of contemplation. Regardless, the frightening noise had grown too close to flee and Lon'Qu knew that any attempt at movement would only give him away quicker.

Praying that the other scents in the area would mask his own, Lon'Qu crossed his fingers, his eyes peering through a small crack in the foliage into the dark expanse beyond. The densely packed together trees managed to choke most of the sunlight before it penetrated the forest, leaving only a faint glow to expose him.

The footsteps had halted; their position unclear and Lon'Qu's eyes could see nothing out of the ordinary. His heart beat a little faster as his held breath deprived it of oxygen during the tense moment.

"Got you!"

The atmosphere was shattered by a tiny shadow leaping from a bush to his side and crashing onto Lon'Qu's back, quickly turning so that both of its knees rested at his sides.

Nowi grinned brightly at her husband while throwing her hands in the air. "Nowi told you she was the hide-and-seek champion! Nobody messes with Nowi in this game!"

Oddly miffed at losing, Lon'Qu rolled his eyes at her antics. Still, sore loser though he was, he felt his lips tugging upwards ever so minutely at his wife's exuberance.

"Now you have to take Nowi into the festival like you promised," Nowi bragged before cheering and loudly repeating the words, "Festival! Festival!" over and over again.

A day without training was anathema to the dedicated Feroxi Swordmaster… but a promise was a promise.

Taking her hand as she began hopping up and down in excitement, he figured he could afford to do this every once in a while. Like once every two… _"no better make it three years. I can take a day off from training once every three years,"_ Lon'Qu thought to himself before chatting… amicably (for him, anyway) with the only woman he knew that had never triggered his gynophobia.

* * *

_Kellam & Miriel_

Kellam sneezed quietly, the sound barely leaving his personal space and yet his wife had shoved some blank paper into his face to act as a tissue without any other prompting.

Kellam had contracted a cold while trekking through Valm, Miriel deciding to stay with him throughout to test, "The effects of minor illness on the marital condition."

He'd taken a bad turn recently, including a worryingly high fever and a slight difficulty in staying conscious, often drifting in and out of strange dreams. Thankfully, that phase had passed and Kellam had actually taken back up full duties around the camp recently.

Miriel had behaved oddly during the phase, her face making weird contortions (that Kellam was fairly sure were too subtle for anyone but himself to notice) and her voice developing a tiny, almost non-existent crack.

Kellam had considered confronting Miriel on it but knew that she would bring it to his attention once she'd collected her theories on the matter. It was one of the best things about marrying such a single-minded scientist, no secrets.

Sure enough, Miriel turned from the book she'd been scribbling in and sat down across from her currently non-armoured beau with her usual emotionless expression. She adjusted the silly mages hat atop her head before meeting his eyes and greeting him curtly. He took no offence, knowing none was intended, and returned the sentiment warmly.

"You have not relapsed into your fever," Miriel observed, getting straight to the point of the conversation. "It would be a relatively safe bet to say the issue has passed, although one can never be certain."

"It was just a bit of a cold," Kellam shrugged his broad shoulders dismissively. "There's no need to worry."

"Objectively, I agree, though I feel the illness' height was more than the usual seasonal ail," Miriel paused for a moment, removing her glasses to wipe a non-existent smudge off before continuing. "I must admit that I am reacting oddly to it."

"Do you think you caught it off me?" Kellam asked, only to receive a slow head shake.

"No, I don't believe my problem is strictly physical, though of course it manifests it as such within my body," Miriel explained in her normal blank tone.

"I… don't quite understand. Sorry," Kellam said honestly, putting a hand to his chin as he tried to work out her thought process.

"Think nothing of it. I'm still investigating it and it is my body. Your ignorance is expected and perfectly understandable," Miriel said in what probably constituted a reassuring voice from her. Disheartening as some might find it; it still caused a distinct warmth to well up in Kellam's chest whenever he heard the rare delight.

"My current theory is that your condition exceeding what was expected of it caused a nervous reaction in my body in order to mobilise me to ensure your wellbeing." Miriel pushed her slipping spectacles back up onto her nose's bridge with one finger while finishing, "It is likely a simple familial defensive instinct to try and maintain the group's strength and numbers. The instinct is so strong that, even though it has likely passed, I find my heart gives a tiny stutter whenever you exhibit physical symptoms of your sickness, such as a sneeze or a cough."

"Oh, that's what you meant. I love you too," Kellam said half-jokingly (knowing his descriptions and knowledge could hardly be put into her notes), sighing when his wife took the statement seriously.

"Ah, so you have some deeper understanding on the matter. Please, enlighten me," Miriel requested sincerely.

Respecting the binding commitment to their marital experiment (as Miriel fondly described it), Kellam spent at least an hour doing his best to put his understanding of the situation into words while his wife diligently recorded the results and threw in her own queries as they went.

She was happy to learn and he was unusually glad to have someone's undivided attention.

* * *

_Gaius & Maribelle_

Gaius daintily popped the final candy in his mouth, savouring the sweet treat as a hedonistic emperor might chew on the grapes lowered by his serving wenches. Gaius contemplated his sugary pleasantries being fed to him by an attractive woman (preferably a troubadour) but decided against it. Candy's mere presence bred traitors more swiftly than promises of riches and conquests, at least, Gaius assumed it should… you couldn't eat gold.

"Gaius, get your pilfering behind out here right now before I beat you out here with my umbrella!" came Maribelle's shrill scream from their manor's lobby, experience warning Gaius that her threat was not idle.

He'd moved into her old family home and been nervous to have to interact with her (no doubt) stuffy parents. However, it quickly became apparent that they were out during the day as much as he was, leaving the entire manor to himself whenever he stopped by before nightfall. They were also fairly kind to him, considering that he'd actually sent her Father to the noose before sending the letter to prove his innocence.

It was great being left to his own devices but it gave his wife far more free reign to yell as loudly as she pleased whenever he crossed some legal line she was inexplicably attached to.

Sauntering up to her as innocently as he could manage, Gaius removed a still wrapped lollipop from his pocket and presented it as a peace offering. In hindsight, it was probably a mistake to use his last resort to get out of trouble when he was trying to deny responsibility but it would have worked on him, so…

"What can I do for you, Twinkles?" the red haired thief asked with what he considered a smooth smile.

His visage quickly collapsed into a frown when his wife's sour expression worsened and she slapped his proffered hand aside.

"You stole from the man who runs the bakery," she accused, her dainty finger's nail coming uncomfortably close to the space between his eyes.

"Actually, I stole from the guy who _owns_ the bakery, big difference," Gaius explained in an off-handed manner before ducking a swat from his wife's favourite pink accessory. "Come on, Twinkles, the guy had it coming."

The particular noble in question had come into possession of the bakery through a series of loans that hadn't been repaid, unfortunate for the family running it but nothing Gaius would object to. What he had objected to was reducing a reasonably hard working family to near-poverty… especially when that family happened to produce cakes and other baked goodies for Gaius', er, the people's enjoyment.

"That's not your decision to make," Maribelle informed him curtly while poking his stomach.

"Now return your ill-gotten gains discreetly and I'll forget this ever happened."

"Wait, then how'd you know it was me? I mean, if everyone knew, you wouldn't bother keeping it a secret," Gaius began unwrapping his treat, popping it into his mouth as he spoke.

"One, because it's almost always you and it doesn't take long for you to give yourself away," whether she missed Gaius' offended look at the accusation or simply ignored it, the thief would never know. "And two, I wouldn't brag about it if it were common knowledge but your reputation has not yet been further sullied. So secretly return the gold and things will be settled."

"No can do, Twinkles. Already ate the proceeds," Gaius pointed to the stick hanging out of his mouth with an undeservedly proud grin. "This is the last of what I stole, after it had been exchanged for a more valuable currency, of course."

The colour drained out of Maribelle's features as she dropped her gaze to the pinewood floor.

"Then… maybe we can just forget about it," Maribelle's hand began rubbing the opposite arm in an attempt to comfort herself that quickly fell apart.

"Whoa, never thought I'd hear you say that," Gaius remarked, his brow furrowing at her sudden change in attitude.

"It… I can hardly bring you forward for this… I couldn't," Maribelle half-muttered, her eyes refusing to meet his.

Gripping her chin to tilt her head upwards, Gaius sighed before lazily smiling, "Hey, it's cool. I ain't gonna force you to pick between the law and me, I couldn't do that to you."

Maribelle smiled slightly at him before scoffing, "No matter what the penalty."

"I stole, like, thirty gold… a few days in jail and a beating would hardly be anything new for me," Gaius boasted, the rush to his ego soon deflating when his wife began giggling. "What's so funny?"

"The penalty for stealing from a noble is death for all commoners, no questions asked. Even our marriage wouldn't take you out of the statutory definition," Maribelle explained between her laughs. "Though, I suppose axes swinging for your neck would be nothing new for you either."

"D-d-death?" Gaius voice cracked and his teeth bit harder into the stick, causing it to snap and fall to the floor at his feet.

"Oh, relax," Maribelle waved one hand dismissively. "I've already noted how unfair those laws are, so I'm not going to turn you in. Besides the man's a lecherous brute, he deserves some retribution."

Turning from her immensely relieved husband (whose hand was still wiping the cold sweat from his brow); she spoke over her shoulder, "Take care not to scrub the silver from your tongue. Apparently, it really can save the life of a fool."

* * *

_Frederick & Panne_

Hunting was a sacred experience amongst the Taguel, even those that did not enjoy eating meat partook in the trapping and stalking of the Earth's other creatures with their fellow kin. Frederick, no stranger to hunting himself, was pleasantly surprised to be invited to join his wife while she tracked some local wildlife to keep her skills sharp.

Despite being in his mid-thirties, considerably older many of his comrades, Frederick had a great deal of stamina from his years of training and had kept up handily with Panne, much to his other half's mild amusement. Having frightened a number of deer and taken down a bear to provide the camp's dinner for the night, Panne suggested a friendly competition.

The rules were simple; the two would go in opposite directions for a count of one hundred and then try to catch each other without being spotted. In essence, a simple game but Frederick did nothing half-assed and diligently pursued his Taguel adversary while taking great care to mask his own trail.

The two had traded matches with fervour, neither one willing to let their pride be marred by defeat. Now, with the sun sinking below the horizon and the world caught in an orange glow, Frederick found himself carefully crouching down behind a tree, following the slight cracking of branches towards the forest's centre.

Feeling the breeze against his skin, Frederick smiled contentedly, its direction carrying his scent away from the sensitive nose of his quarry. The display lasted mere moments, Frederick leaping from the bushes and latching onto an unsuspecting Panne. The two rolled along the ground for a moment before Frederick managed to force himself atop her and pin her arms above her head.

Both of them were breathing heavily, the exertions having taken an obvious toll but a delighted grin still crossed Panne's face.

"Five to five, you're not too bad at this… for a man-spawn, I mean," Panne added teasingly, her racial vitriol an odd form of endearment following their inter-species mingling.

"I must also admit milady, that you are a worthy opponent… for an overgrown rabbit, I mean," Frederick countered, his tiny playful side leaping into the open with full awareness that it would soon be buried beneath knightly duties.

"Oh, a comeback, that is rare. Perhaps I didn't marry such a worn out old man after all," Panne mocked with a subtle glee, the playful mood the jibe represented lasting long after they'd retired to their tent for the evening.

* * *

_Henry & Tharja_

"Hehe," came her husband's voice from just outside their tent, his usual glee having been even notable than the norm.

Tharja ignored the sound, having grown used to it the same way that a person living in a brothel eventually just stopped hearing the carnal pleasuring altogether. She carefully lifted a newt's tail in her thin fingers, suddenly realising that the particular sample was slightly too long for her curse's purpose.

Quick to remedy her own problems, Tharja lifted a knife from her desk and lined it up over the lizard's stolen limb. Having worked out the length she needed, she lined up her blade and slowly lowered it for the cut.

"Hey, Tharja, come here for a minute!" Henry shouted while leaning his head in through the tent's flap.

The distraction made Tharja's hand jolt ever so slightly to the right and ruined the evenness of her cut. Who knew the disastrous effect that could have on her curse?

Knowing that her own magical prowess was overwhelmed by Henry's freakish natural talent, Tharja calmly took a deep breath to ensure she was in her right frame of mind when she ran the knife in her hand through the perennially grinning Sorcerer's chest.

Her annoyance was obvious when she spat, "What?!" at her husband while raising the knife menacingly.

"I got something to show you! Something you'll really love!" Henry assured her, completely missing the murderous look on her face.

Apparently unsatisfied with her slow reaction, he rushed in and gripped her arm to pull her forward. Had he not gripped the arm in possession of her knife, that might have been the end of the problem but as it stood she simply allowed herself to be thrown into the outside world.

Tharja glanced about impatiently, a sharp insult on the tip of her tongue, but she was genuinely caught off-guard by the sight of Henry's usually chaotic crows flying in a perfect hexagonal shape, with the inner layers filled in so the entire thing resembled an odd holding pen.

"That's new," she muttered, before turning to her husband while decidedly unimpressed. "Is that it? You thought your pets some manners. Can I go now?"

Henry merely cackled… good naturedly (?) at her before shaking his head vigorously.

"Nah, that isn't it. Well, it kind of is but they're not my pets. They're my friends," Henry explained cheerfully. "I got their permission to do this. Panne even said that that was what they said, so I'm doubly sure of it."

"Permission to do what?" Tharja's curiosity was undeniably peaked, a large portion of her attraction to the other Sorcerer resulting from the manic insanity his brain often mistook for normal ideas.

"This," Henry proclaimed, twisting his arms through the air seemingly at random.

The black birds flying diligently place sprung to life and began twisting themselves into the rough shape of a human body. They held the pose for a moment before scattering and reforming into the shape of a massive, downward-pointing claymore.

The sword flew higher into the sky as the layer of birds at the back dropped down beneath it in a steep dive. The ones dropping off began gathering atop one another like circus performers in a human (crow) pyramid that increasingly resembled a human upper body, the head and armless shoulders looking like a near featureless bust.

The two different groups held their position so that Tharja could take the spectacle in before the sword plunged downwards, the top ravens on pyramid duty splitting off like stray bursts of obsidian blood.

When his mildly macabre show ended, Henry bowed towards his wife like a successful actor, a flick of his wrists sending his crows scattering back into the sky in a cacophony of craws.

"Well?" he asked expectantly, his closed eyes crinkling ever so slightly as they did when he was overjoyed with himself.

"An enjoyable show," Tharja confirmed, her usual sadistic smile on full display after witnessing Henry's amusing antics. "What a fun curse… I wonder if it works on people?" she said darkly, her eyes creepily disappearing into the shadow of her fringe.

"Of course it does, that's part two," Henry said while throwing his arms around his wife, causing a mild shriek of surprise at the sudden contact.

"Part two of what?" she asked, her eyebrow rising as one of her arms snaked around Henry's neck.

"Your birthday gift!" Henry exclaimed before snuggling his head happily into the crook of her neck.

Tharja stared blankly forward before her mouth formed a little o-shape. She had known April was close but hadn't really been paying attention to the date of late, completely overlooking the event her lover had clearly put a lot of effort into.

"Good boy," Tharja muttered playfully while patting his white hair gently, Henry leaning excessively into the positive reinforcement like a needy pet.

* * *

_Chrom & Sumia_

Chrom considered himself a reasonably brave man. While his tactician might grumble whenever the army's leader wandered out on standard scouting or patrol missions with the other Shepherds, he would gladly lay down his life to ensure that he was doing his absolute best for his people. The Exalt could face down an enemy army that outnumbered his forces ten-to-one without so much as flinching, leading his men from the front until the bitter end.

That having all been said, flying on a Pegasus outside of battle scared the hell out of him. Without the rush of adrenaline and the desperate need to survive that accompanied it, he would freeze up and cling tightly to the waist of the woman directing the winged beast. The mere sight of the Earth below paralysed him, causing him no small amount of embarrassment when they were back on solid ground.

Whenever it was suggested riding along with a Pegasus Knight to act as a scout or just to reach a destination quicker, Chrom would do everything in his power to deflect the attention and distract himself with some other duty.

Only two women could break that effort and get him atop the blasted horses, his youngest daughter and his Pegasus loving wife. Sumia's guarantees that she wouldn't let anything happen to him wounded his pride and her beautiful brown eyes had the unusual ability to convince him to do whatever they wanted by setting his heart racing. When those two facts combined, he often found himself sitting behind Sumia atop her dedicated mount and soaring through the clouds.

Gulping slightly, Chrom experimentally tried loosening his grip but the Pegasus beneath him turned slightly to glide along the wind and the minute movement soon had him clutching to his wife's stomach like a timid child at a festival.

His wife's giggles made his face light up with a bright red hue but his arms refused to move, frozen in place by his fear.

"You need to relax," Sumia scolded teasingly, leaning her body back against Chrom's muscled physique. "This is supposed to be fun."

"I don't understand why we couldn't just spar? Or even just go on a picnic or something clichéd like that?" Chrom's stomach lurched as the Pegasus suddenly decided to give itself a hard push skywards. "Why do you have to love something so horrifying?"

"Chrom! My Pegasus is not horrifying, she's a sweet and gentle creature," Sumia cooed, her Pegasus snorting happily at the attention. "Look how carefully she's flying to make sure you're comfortable."

"This is… careful flying?" Chrom's skin paled and he was left lightheaded by the mindboggling comment. That momentary inattention was swiftly punished when he began slipping to the side and got a clear view of the world below… far, far below. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Sumia was unusually silent for a moment before suddenly commanding Chrom to, "Close your eyes."

Chrom's mouth was agape at the suggestion, about to protest when Sumia whispered, "Please."

Sighing in defeat, Chrom shut his eyes tightly and made doubly sure his arms were securely locked around his wife's waist.

At first, the sudden loss of his sight made him sweat bullets as he felt even more helpless than he had before. His breathing was erratic and he was just waiting for the perspiration to make his hands slip off his safety grip (Sumia).

"Relax, take a deep breath." Sumia's voice was perfectly confident, a far cry from her usual attitude while they wandered along on the ground. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

Hesitant at first, Chrom eventually acquiesced, sucking in a slow gulp of air and exhaling with equal enthusiasm. He'd been about to protest their position again when he suddenly noticed the wind beating against his face.

It was a cool breeze moving quick enough to ruffle his air but slow enough to not impair breathing. The refreshing air had a certain aura of excitement about it, Chrom voicing aloud his surprise.

"I never noticed how nice the wind feels up here…"

"It's pretty nice," Sumia admitted, her smile perfectly imaginable from her tone. "Want to feel something even better?"

"Eh…" Chrom debated internally whether he could trust Sumia's idea of enjoyable while airbourne. Reluctantly deciding that he could, he shakily said, "Alright."

The next few moments were briefly filled with screams as the Pegasus dive-bombed towards the ground and swooped back into the sky at the last possible moment before becoming a white and red stain on the grass. The exciting display continued as the flying mount relished in its freedom and its mistress' attempts to lead her through the complicated manoeuvres that Cordelia had thought the airheaded Pegasus Knight ("just in case you need them in battle").

Chrom's stomach seemed to be determined to escape the current predicament, bouncing about in his gullet while angry little insects smashed about inside it like a violent riot. Still, a certain part of his mind was arguing pure heresy… that he was secretly enjoying the new experiment.

The rush that his body experienced reminded him of his first battle, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as excitement bubbled up hand-in-hand with the danger all around him. Without the constant reminder of the height that his eyes provided, he could truly embrace the unique feeling of being like a bird, completely free of the effects of gravity.

Soon enough his shame had evaporated and both he and Sumia were whooping and hollering in sheer joy as her Pegasus graciously took them on a journey that humans would once have never dreamt about.

Chrom could pinpoint the exact moment that his fear morphed into a frenzied enjoyment… it occurred when his grip around his wife tightened and his head rested comfortably upon her shoulder.

* * *

**Author's Notes: The final piece and it seems to have come out better than the last chapter at least. Still, I am curious how it will be received. Again, criticism and opinions welcomed.**

**By the way, if your review is simply stating displeasure at one of the couple's featured, that's fine but you're kind of missing the point. I was trying to show that each pairing present, despite many not being the most popular choices, all do make sense and you could see them getting together in almost every possible case in Awakening. It's a tribute to the game's excellent writing.**

**Also, I wanted to have at least one fic on the site that lined up perfectly with my own game's canon and I encourage others to do the same. The challenge of fitting all your own game's couples/ other relationships into one game is still open.**


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